


Better Things

by WhisperingOrchard



Series: Leokumi Week 2k16 [1]
Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: If | Fire Emblem: Fates
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Nightmares, Ship Week, post-Revelations
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-08
Updated: 2016-05-08
Packaged: 2018-06-07 02:23:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,099
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6781573
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhisperingOrchard/pseuds/WhisperingOrchard
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Takumi's nights were always fretful. But, perhaps, Leo's presence beside him would make it a bit more bearable.</p><p>(Day 1 of LeoKumi week on tumblr -- Theme: "Dream")</p>
            </blockquote>





	Better Things

She was dying.

Frozen digits tore away the bruised skin of his neck—his lips strained to speak, to shout out desperately for his fallen mother, but his raw throat was silenced by an unseen force, and he fell silent. With blood-clouded vision, he stumbled to the cobblestone below—his knees clacked the rock loudly, and throbbed with the sensation, but his body had transmuted the pain to despair. Another wound flooded a fresh wetness from his brow. He could not see. He could not speak, save the agonized cries clawing frantically at his larynx, perishing on his tongue, unheard—

Faintly, his mother’s voice resounded in his ears. “Takumi,” it muttered, dripping disappointment with each echoing syllable. “ _Takumi_.” It was all she ever said. “ _Takumi_ ”. “ _Takumi!_ ”  Over and over and over again, steadily rattling in his ears until his eardrums all but burst from their burrows. He couldn’t breathe. Her vocalizations grew more frenzied, more _frightened_ , until disappointment shifted into regret into _terror—_

_“Takumi!”_

—and it stopped.

Vision marred by red, he couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t speak. Couldn’t move short of curling into himself; his eyes squeezed tight and his throat finally swelled shut. He couldn’t breathe. Mother was dead—never to speak his name again, never to praise his moot accomplishments, never to look at him and see someone _worth anything_ —

He couldn’t breathe. By the gods, his lungs had blistered with ice and filled with the horrid stench of death and he _couldn’t breathe_ —

Why couldn’t he have been better?

Why couldn’t he have _saved her_ —?

_Mother—!_

………………...

Takumi’s nights were always fretful.

The dreams hadn’t started as a result of his mother’s untimely demise—he had always been a poor sleeper, something he attributed to his own personal vulnerability—but they had since become far more vivid. Far more _devastating_. He hated them, in the mildest way of putting it. This would be neither the first nor the last night he awoke in a panic, tears streaking his flushed face as he struggled to haul himself back into reality.

He was...

He was in Hoshido—in his room. His vision was fully functioning. His breath was labored, but working as it should. He was in Hoshido. He was _safe_ , in his bed—

Cold fingers settled on his bare back. With a quivering flinch, he gasped and moved hectically away from the touch—oh gods, was the nightmare ongoing _still_?—until awareness indicated the source of the foreign hand, and he sighed.

“Takumi?” the familiar voice rang out. _Gods_ , if he never had to hear his own name again…

The hand replaced itself on his back, unbearably cold. All the same, Takumi settled slowly into the touch until his skin adjusted; with a strained sigh, he shifted back to his side of the futon. He was in his bed, in Hoshido.

And Leo… Leo was with him.

“Your hands are always so _cold…_ ” Takumi managed, voice weakened as his body recovered from the terrors of sleep. Sniffing indignantly, he snaked his trembling arms around Leo’s midsection, thankful that the rest of his lover’s middle emanated warmth. His swollen copper eyes slid shut.  “... I hate it.”

Beneath his arms, Takumi could feel the subtle movements of Leo’s body as he shifted into the embrace; the younger Nohr pulled him nearer still, fingers rubbing careful circles along the contours of his back. They laid like that in near-silence for a while, broken only by a few stifled sobs as Takumi rode out the upset of his nightmare. It was as he said before; he hated it—hated how cold Leo’s hands always were, how cold the hands at his throat were in sleep. Hated how fragile they made him feel—how they reduced a proud son of Hoshido to a weak, weeping _mess_ who cried shamefully into his companion’s shoulder like a _child_.

The notion brought another empty sob to his lips, and Leo sighed at the sound, but he knew better at this point in their relationship; this wasn’t the first time it had happened. Talking to him about it would only make it worse. Instead, Leo let his other arm wrap around to Takumi’s back, pulling him closer in a loose embrace. “Takumi?”

Upon hearing his voice again, Takumi wiped his drying face on Leo’s shoulder; his nose scrunched in a wince at the smear of snot now streaking his partner’s skin. “Yes?”

“... First of all, that’s disgusting.” Shaking his head, Leo grabbed a handkerchief from beside the sleeping space. He handed it to Takumi with a small pout. “Secondly, it’s almost morning. Did you plan on sleeping in any longer?”

With a slow, confused blink, Takumi gazed behind him and noted the morning sun peeking through the window. “... Guess not. Please tell me I didn’t wake you up.”

“So be it. You didn’t wake me up.”

“Ugh, you’re so _cheeky_.” Takumi groaned, though the faintest of smiles finally pried at the corners of his lips. A dull ache still lingered in his lungs, and his limbs quaked with the aftermath of stress, but he couldn’t deny that simply being in the other’s presence was soothing. Laying in bed beside his beloved, soothed by the steady thrum of Leo’s heart against his chest... He was safe here, in Leo’s embrace. He was loved, he _was_ , and the demons in his mind couldn’t toy with him in his waking hours. Not anymore. “You’re lying through your teeth.”

“Well, you asked so _nicely…_ ”

“Since when does _that_ make a difference?”

“Since a few minutes ago, when you woke me up.”

That earned Leo a half-assed punch in the arm.

Dabbing his face with the handkerchief, Takumi leaned himself lazily against Leo’s chest. There was a special comfort of sorts in the other’s presence in his life.  And as he set the handkerchief aside, Takumi felt Leo’s lips tickle his temple in a kiss, and his heart fluttered in confirmation. Leo was far from perfect, but they had been together long enough to convince Takumi of the legitimacy of Leo’s affections. He was loved—loved by one of Nohr’s most (outwardly) _cold_ royals, no less—and to this day, he could hardly believe it. To this day, he could hardly understand how or why, but nevertheless he knew it was genuine. Leo knew how to coax him back into a state of mirth, and the Nohr royal would always take particular care to do so.

Despite his myriad of flaws and uncertainties, Takumi held something that Leo thought was worth loving.

And he knew that he would always awaken to better things.

 

**Author's Note:**

> I'll be participating in as many ship week days as finals will allow! So, if you'd like, keep an eye out for more. ^-^
> 
> You may follow me on [tumblr](http://quarrelswithquills.tumblr.com) if you would like. I'm also writing a multichapter Leokumi fic called [Cauterized](http://archiveofourown.org/works/6397072/chapters/14647357), so if you enjoyed this, consider giving that one a look as well!
> 
> Thank you kindly for reading! If you wouldn't mind, any kudos or comments are GREATLY appreciated! Thanks again!


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